Of Jungles and Stars
by unfoldingbliss
Summary: Both were sparkling bright messes, coping in the only ways they knew how. Turning to one another was just as much a struggle as pulling away [Spacetiger drabbles]
1. Unkempt

Inspired by a scene in today's episode. Mild spoilers for the beginning of the episode. I just had to write it out because Sam really looked like this! XD

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"Now if Miss Crazy Cat would join us," Sam joked, placing the plate of pancakes on top of the counter. While last night had been quite a surprise (not to mention a little unnerving), he figured that it was just a bad night on her part. Sure enough, she'd be coming down the stairs any second, scowling and scolding him for his words.

Peter was in the middle of saying something (and of course he wasn't really paying attention, it being Peter) when the group of his friends silenced, their heads whipped towards the kitchen entrance. Sam quirked an eyebrow and before he could ask what their problem was, the corner of his eyes caught dark skin next to the refrigerator and -

His stare widened, hand tightening around the spatula. Ava stood there in her typical sleeping attire, a purple tank and tantalizing short-shorts. She was slouching with one hand behind her head, hair disheveled and lips twisted into a pout. Sleep was still evident in her eyes, but they hinted at a casual outlook Sam wasn't familiar with.

He cringed as he felt an unexpected shiver run across his shoulders and spread to his head. His eyes followed Ava as she opened the fridge and gulped down the quart of milk, mouth salivating when some dripped off her lips. Was he…was he_ turned on_?

_Holy shit,_ _Ava's hot_, Sam realized as his heart drummed against his chest.

When Ava burped and the rest of the guys gasped at her behavior, Sam conformed and did the same, though he hoped they were too distracted to recognize he was faking it. Because _goddamn_, Ava was hanging loose and her hair was splayed across her neck and face and now she was laughing like she didn't have a care in the world and -

_Oh god, don't get aroused, don't get aroused, don't get aroused -_ Sam chanted, palms sweaty and face hot.

"Huh, you're out of milk," she sung to the boys, dropping the empty carton into the trash. A smile flashed across her face before she headed back to her room without another look back. Sam kept his eyes glued to her back, making a firm effort to resist lowering his gaze further. And when she was finally out of his line of vision, he took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"So…" he trailed, turning his attention back to his astonished comrades, "_That_ happened."

He would accept, a few days later, that he indeed was aroused by an unkempt Ava.

And everything else about her.


	2. Taste

"You can't pick the same flavor as me," Ava tapped her foot against the shiny store floor, lips puckered between a scowl and a pout. Sam liked to call it 'a scout,' which too easily riled her up and furthered the look stretched across her face. He didn't mind it really; anything she did with her lips was pretty damn cute, "It's redundant."

"Didn't we establish that mint chocolate chip is _both_ our favorite flavor?" Sam smirked, leaning against the clear freezer doors, "Why don't we just get two of them? It'd set us up for at least a week. Maybe even ten days."

"But don't you want to try something else?" she countered, drifting just close enough so he could catch a whiff of her pomegranate perfume. Since they'd started dating, it had grown to be of his favorite scents, rich and sultry just like her. It almost made him realize how trivial their arguing over ice cream flavors seemed. How, maybe, he should comply and score some brownie points that could eventually transact into midnight kisses in the park or lazy morning cuddles during the weekend.

_Almost._

"I don't see why I have to be the one who picks the new flavor," Sam shrugged, taking a step back to avoid further distraction from her vibrant aroma, "You scared of a little change, kitty cat?"

She was about to protest, mouth opening and finger ready to fly into his face, when instead she promptly clamped her lips shut, fists curling at her hips.

"I...I get a little indecisive about this kind of stuff," Ave explained, eyes darting towards the shelves of chips and pretzels on the other side of the aisle, "I know it's really stupid, but I've been this way since I was little. I'm really...neurotic about trying new foods, I guess. I have no idea how it's going to taste if I don't like it, I've wasted two or three bucks I could have saved for something else, like food I _actually_ like. I don't know...like I said, it's stupid."

For a moment, Sam contemplated her form, arms crossed and back turned. Was she...was she afraid of what he might think of her because of this little quirk?

Despite himself, he smiled and walked towards her, wrapping an arm around her lithe waist, "It's not stupid. I understand, babe, it's okay. Trying new things can get be a little frustrating sometimes. Like once, I tried this burrito at a Mexican restaurant and it had this funky green sauce that I'd never tried before and it _totally_ ruined the _carne asada_ inside."

"I know, Sam," Ava sighed, but a chuckle soon escaped after, "I was there."

"Oh," Sam returned her smile, "Right. Must of forgot, seeing as the rest of that night was_ so_ much more enticing."

"Ugh, perv," she said, pushing his face away as he attempted to pull her forward for a kiss, "Not in the ice cream aisle. A kid could come strolling by any moment now and be traumatized for life."

"They'll be okay. It'll just expand their mind a little," he replied. However, he didn't put up much more of a fight and opted to kiss the back of her hand instead, giving her a quick wink before swirling them around towards the hundreds of ice cream varieties, "Alright, back to business. Since you're so keen on us picking something different, but have a hard time trying new things, how about we decide together? I'll pay for it and everything, just in case you don't like it. Sound fair?"

"Definitely," Ava nodded, kissing him on the cheek for further encouragement, "Thank you for understanding."

"No problem," Sam tightened his hold on her waist, reveling in the feel of her taut muscles underneath the thin, cotton shirt, "Believe me, _tigre_, there were plenty of warning signs beforehand. I knew what I was getting into."

Ava's lips immediately drew up into another 'scout' and the desire to forget the ice cream excursion and make out with her behind the market swelled, "Ha, _ha_. Very funny. I could say the same thing about you, you know."

"I know," Sam chuckled, "You _have_. Now, let's get to picking! I don't think I can stand being this close to you without hot make-outs much longer."

Ava hummed in response, though her dark skin seemed to tinge just a shade pinker. Even a girl as tough and disciplined as the White Tiger had her moments of abashed femininity. And they were moments he always welcomed and cherished; it went to show how far they had come in letting the other in, breaking down the walls systematically built over their tough childhoods, "...what do you think about Turtle Sundae?"

"I've had that one before," he didn't miss a beat, thinking it best to let the moment pass rather than tease her and get off track once again, "Pretty good, but a lot of caramel. Can get stuck on the roof of your tongue if you're not careful."

"Hmmm, caramel is pretty tasty, but I like it better in small doses," she shook her head, stare turning towards the top shelves, "Oh! That one looks good - half-baked!"

At her excited outburst, Sam opened the freezer door and wrapped his hand around one of the containers, "Says here it's a mix of chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie fudge. Sounds pretty good in my book. You want this one or do you wanna keep searching?"

"No," Ava shook her head, already leading them towards the registers, "We can always look over different flavors next time. I decided that's the one I want to try tonight."

He grinned, "Whatever you say, kitty cat."

"You're never going to stop calling me that, are you?" she questioned, grabbing their usual mint chocolate chip selection and a can of whip cream.

"Nope," he replied "It's cute, I like it, I _know_ you like it and just won't admit it, so I'm keeping it."

The rest of their time at the store was spent bickering back and forth about said nickname, though it ended up taking a flirtatious turn when Sam suggested what she could do with such feline attributes. Their walk home was swift and before long, they were huddled close on Ava's bed, watching the new episodes of her favorite webseries and finding the taste of half-baked ice cream "fucking divine."

And the taste, he soon discovered, was ten times more delectable when applied against his girlfriend's tongue.


	3. Wanted

He honestly wasn't sure if the concept of cuddling appealed to a girl like Ava.

They had spent a few nights in her room either watching movies on her laptop or playing cards on the floor, but they would rarely touch when doing so and kisses were only offered at the end of his stay. Sure, their relationship was still fairly young; in three days, it would be five weeks. Yet, for someone who had the dating experience of a toddler, Sam didn't know when it would be an acceptable time to ask for more than chaste kisses in the doorway or the rare make-out session behind a tree in the nearby park. Testing the waters was fine and peachy (and he definitely wasn't going to complain about what he had already received), but he liked Ava. _Really_ liked her. And he wanted to express that through the sense of touch more than anything.

So, while she read a book and he played a handheld game on top of her bed, he tested the waters a little more. Starting out small, he inched towards her until their hips were touching, blue jeans scrapping against cotton leggings. Ava seemed to pause in her reading for a moment or two, but she didn't question the action and continued on, flipping the page while humming a familiar pop song. Discreetly, Sam turned off his game, hoping that she wouldn't notice the loss of the 8-bit sounds.

His gaze flickered across her face and he studied her focused expression, engrossed with whatever words were written on the crisp, white pages. With a deep intake of breath, Sam sat up and stretched out one arm until it was above her head, wrapping it around her shoulders and bringing her into his chest.

A few more seconds passed and…

"Wow," Ava said, her voice bored, "That is literally the oldest trick in the book."

"What?" Sam asked from above her head, his heartbeat quickening at her blunt response, "I…I just wanted to hold you! Okay?"

The giggle that escaped her was unexpected, and so was the way she nestled herself into his chest, "Took you long enough, dork. I thought I was going to have to spell out what people do in relationships."

"As if," Sam rolled his eyes despite the smile forming on his lips. This was okay; she wanted this with him like he did with her. And he couldn't be any happier.


	4. Adored

It came as no revelation when they simultaneously cringed and sulked, "I hate the cold."

Having grown up in places that could surround their bodies in a sweltering heat just seconds after leaving their house, Sam and Ava were unaccustomed to dealing with blistering, chilly winds or inches upon inches of thick, padded snow. Sure, it was fun to throw snowballs at Peter when he was "not flirting" with MJ or hit up an ice rink with Harry and Liz as a fun double-date, but the excitement of snow could easily wane against the frigid bite nipping at their toes and fingers and the New York wind always seemed to seep through the many layers of shirts and jackets they wore in prevention.

"Ugh, why does it have to be freezing today of all days?" Ava complained, wrapping her arms tight around her waist, "I have a huge chemistry test tomorrow! How am I suppose to focus when my mind is practically begging me to run to the nearest fireplace and stay there for the next twelve hours?"

"You're telling me, kitty cat," Sam sniffed, his nose already beginning to run despite his best attempt at nestling it underneath his thick scarf. They usually held hands on their way back from school (unless Sam said or did something stupid), but the wind was whipping past them in ways Storm would be proud of and even though they both wanted to, each hand would suffer terrible consequences, "And this wind! How am I supposed to sleep tonight if that keeps raking against my window?"

"I just want to get home, undress into a pair of sweats and get under as many covers as possible," Ava said, biting at her lip as another gust of wind rushed passed them, cold sinking into her bones, lingering in-between the empty crevices of clothes and skin.

"You know what? Screw this," and a moment later, Sam scooped Ava into his arms bridal style, ignoring her protests and giving a quick look over the general vicinity before bright blue light enveloped him and he skyrocketed into the air, surging forward. Knowing it would be futile to yell at him to stop, she clasped her arms around his neck and snuggled her head into his shoulder, enjoying the instant relief from the brisk winds.

Sam descended a block away from the house. Intense adrenaline swarming his veins, he grabbed onto Ava's hand and whisked them towards Aunt May's doorstep, reveling in the oncoming giggles that slipped past Ava's mouth and the air of wonder laced in her next words, "What's gotten into you, Sam?"

He kept silent and Ava quirked an eyebrow. There were few instances she could recall Sam keeping his mouth shut, especially when she was involved. Most times when it occurred, he was either recollecting his life in Arizona or working on a difficult math problem. But this? Grip tight, eyes focused, the slight curve of his lips that indicated he was cooking up something in that haywire brain of his...it was new. And a bit of a turn on if she was being honest.

When they finally made it to the house, Sam swung the door open and announced their arrival, though they both knew no one would be home before them. Danny and Luke were taking after-school boxing lessons and Peter was on a milkshake run with the new girl Felicia Hardy. And Aunt May was at work.

"We have the house to ourselves, babe," Sam said as they threw off their bulky jackets onto the floor, "Haven't had that happen in awhile."

"Yeah, I know," Ava replied, taking off her washed-out jeans and slipping into a pair of thick, black cotton sweats. The corner of her eyes caught Sam appreciating her exposed legs and she couldn't help but smirk at his unabashed gawking. What a dork, "You remember the last time that happened?"

"No need to remind me. I've already replayed it three times in my head since we opened the door," Sam lifted his eyes to the ceiling, a far-off, dreamy gaze stuck on his face.

"Pervert," Ava rolled her eyes as she took off her sweatshirt and smoothed out the wrinkles from her turtleneck, "Why do you have to be such a typical boy?"

"Oh, kitty cat, I'm _anything_ but typical," he walked over to her, grabbing onto her hand again, "Come on, Ava. Bedtime."

"Sam, are you kidding - " but before she could get the rest of the words out, she noticed his stare grow soft and unguarded, a somewhat shy smile gracing his lips. Goosebumps shot up across her arms and she shivered at the tingling sensation.

"Still cold?" Sam asked, opening up the blankets and leading them onto the bed, "I can help with that."

A few twists and turns of their bodies and soon, both were snug under the blankets, bringing life back to their chilled skin and bones. Sam let go of her hand and took hold of the other, wrapping his arm around her upright shoulder and keeping their fingers interlaced as he pressed his chest and waist into her back, interlocking their legs underneath the white sheets. When he kissed the bare skin just below her neck and breathed into her long tresses, Ava squeezed his hand just a little tighter, basking in the newfound warmth encasing her flesh. She huddled her body closer, doing her best to leave as little space as possible between his shirt and hers. He responded and leaned in further, his chin practically digging into her shoulders. His other hand made its way beneath her pillow and head and she smiled as her boyfriend let out a content sigh.

"I love you, kitty cat," he whispered, voice low and husky from approaching drowsiness.

"Love you too, you big dork," she replied, closing her eyes as another kiss found its way to the birthmark behind her neck, the warmth so vibrant around their bodies it would come as no surprise if they were glowing.

Perhaps the cold wasn't so bad if it left her feeling adored.


	5. Ignore

"I don't see what the problem is," Ava shrugged, brushing at the frayed ends of her long hair. She really should ask Agent Hill for better conditioner..."I can spend as much time with him as I like after our training sessions. I don't have to be around to babysit you dorks 24/7."

"You're missing the point," Sam pressed on, one hand rubbing at his temple while the other cradled his helmet against his chest, "Don't you think Connors is a little uncomfortable with a teenage girl looking over his experiments and theories all the time? Give the guy some space."

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes, turning away from her fellow teammate and making a beeline for the showers, "I'm pretty sure he enjoys the attention. He's stuck in that lab by himself all day long. As soon as I arrive, he goes off on how he learned some new trick to implement in some new device or the whatnot. I can't get him to shut up. Besides, he's much better company than you three. When was the last time any of you discussed bio-engineering with me?"

"Uh, never because it's a huge waste of time to talk about," Sam replied, unfazed by the sharp look she shot him in response to his callous words, "Ava, we're not here to get chummy with the help. We're here to be better superheroes. And I doubt you're getting the message if you're spending all your free time with some nerd you have a silly schoolgirl crush on."

Ava's eyes narrowed, fists curled tight, "Dr. Connors is not some nerd, Nova. He's a brilliant scientist who happens to working on some amazing inventions to further our training. Just because you can't wrap your pathetic mind around such complex concepts doesn't mean you can belittle me for showing interest in his ideas."

Despite the wave of danger rolling off her body, Sam continued to egg her on, unable to admit he was just happy she was finally paying him some attention, "So, you're not denying that you like him, kitty cat? Because I gotta say, I never pegged you for the May-December ty-"

The rest of his words were cut off by a swift jab to his cheek, throwing his back into the cold, steel wall. Ava leaned forward and lifted him up by his collar, baring her teeth and eyes glazed over in barely repressed loathing, "Who I like and why I like them is no business of yours, Nova. If you think my behavior is affecting the team, take it up with Fury. But leave Dr. Connors out of it."

She dropped him to the floor and walked away, proceeding onward to the women's locker room. Sam watched her leave, his fingers grazing the bruising skin underneath his eye.

_Face it_, he thought as he recalled the way she laughed whenever Connors told some stupid science joke, _Connors has nothing to do with it. She hates you and you just want her all to yourself._

When Danny and Luke asked him about his face a few hours later, he waved it off, insisting he'd bumped into his bedpost the night before. They accepted the explanation, Ava headed off to the labs, and Sam sat on the sofa channel surfing, doing his best to ignore the persistent itch clawing at his throat.


	6. Intentions (Coffee Shop AU)

"Excuse me," Sam heard a voice from behind him speak up, "I ordered a double shot soy latte with caramel syrup. Not..._whatever_ this is."

_Goddammit not already_, Sam sighed, tying a work apron around his waist before turning to make amends with Peter's latest victim. The boy may be a genius, but he sure was inept at taking orders and fixing drinks. If Coulson and his Aunt May ever decided to call it quits, Sam hoped Peter was one of the first things his boss gave back, "Sorry about that, ma'am. My partner can be quite a..."

His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of the young woman before him, dressed in a red-and-black peacoat and dark blue jeans. She was rather pretty, with the way her brown hair framed her heart-shaped face and her eyes and lips twisted into a girly pout. Had she been around this place before?

"Can be a what?" she repeated the last of his words, leaning forward against the counter and quirking a brow, "Hello?"

"Oh - uh, sorry," Sam shook his head, giving her a wide smile, "Got sidetracked. Anyway, I just got here and my lame co-worker, the one who fixed that drink just left so I have no idea what you ordered. But, I would be happy to fix up another one for you, if that's okay."

"That's all I was asking for," she returned his grin, handing over the cup of questionable substance, "But it's kind of weird. Peter isn't normally like this."

"Wait, you know Peter?" Sam blinked, "Do you come around here often?"

"Yeah, almost three times a week if I can afford it," she replied, "Peter and I study in the labs together at the University down the street. I know he can be a bit braindead at times, but he's always been good at making my usual before. Maybe it's that girl..."

Sam laughed at her last remark while he brewed her coffee, "Oh, you mean Mary Jane? That poor kid goes on and on about her. Like he has a chance."

"Hey! That's my friend you're talking about!" the young woman exclaimed, her eyes fixed to the nametag on his apron, "I would really appreciate it if you didn't talk about him behind his back, _Sam_."

"Oh please, he does the same to me all the time," he rolled his eyes, taking in how miffed the girl was, "What? You got some little crush on him?"

The girl flushed, her sharp nails digging into the countertop, "N-no! We're just friends. Besides...I like someone else."

"Yeah? Is it his friend, Harry? Over half the goddamn city can't get enough of that guy," the drink was just about finished when Sam noticed a line starting to form beside the counter, three men and one girl looking at their watches every five seconds or so, "Actually, nevermind. I'm getting quite the crowd right now, so this little convo is going to have to wait until next time."

"Next time?" she said as Sam handed her the scalding paper cup, "Next...oh, the next time I order from you! Right, okay then, see you later!"

"Bye," Sam waved as the girl went out the door, realizing too late that he'd forgotten to ask for her name.

_Oh well,_ he shrugged it off, ignoring the nagging sensation clawing at his stomach, _Not like she was _that_ pretty. Probably totally likes Harry too. That's it. Yep, digs Harry._

Unbeknownst to him, the young woman that exited the quaint coffee shop was bashing her head against her hand, cursing herself for acting so stupid.

_All this time pining for the guy, too chicken to go over there and talk to him even with Peter around, and now he ends up thinking you like Peter or his friend Harry,_ she berated herself, taking another long sip of the delightful concoction Sam had made for her, _And he makes such good coffee, ugh! Why did I wait so long and make up that stupid excuse! He may be a little more snarky than I imagined, but he's really cute...not like Peter didn't warn me or anything. Man, get it together, Ava! You have psychology with Liz in an hour and she always could see right through you_.

She decided to try again in a couple of days and make sure that that time around, her intentions were clear. She might want the coffee, but she wanted the guy behind the counter just a bit more.


	7. Picture Perfect

"Wow, Ava, I didn't really think you would be into something like this," Sam admitted as he led them inside the bright photo booth, "Especially the themed ones."

His girlfriend gave him a pointed look, her hand squeezing his just a little tighter than necessary, "Hush, dork. Has it ever occurred to you we haven't taken any pictures together since we started dating?"

Sam knitted his brows together and tried to recall their recent outings as a couple. The beach, the amusement park, the museum...they never asked anyone to take a picture of the two of them? And he guessed pictures with the rest of the gang didn't count...

"Then I guess this is our chance, then," Sam smiled, eagerly taking a seat onto the red plastic seat, "But I don't think this little seating arrangement is going to work out."

"Huh? What do you - ah!" Ava let out a small cry as he pulled her into his lap, latching his fingers onto her jutted hip bone.

"Yeah, this is much better," Sam chuckled, nuzzling his face along the soft skin of her neck.

She scoffed at his words, but made no attempt to wiggle out of his grasp. In fact, she even sighed a little, leaning into the soft kisses he ghosted across her exposed shoulder, "One of the pictures have to be normal, you know. Can't go off showing the world a bunch of hot make-out scenes."

"Oh, you could," Sam snickered into her hair, "Everyone would be _obviously_ jealous though. Cute boy that can't keep their hands off you? I know I would be."

He could practically hear her eyes roll above him as she picked out four quarters from her pocket and dispensed them into the slot, "You just better make these look good."

"I promise," he whispered and a few seconds later, he felt her hand move to his jawline, guiding his lips towards her own. A content sigh escaped him as she grabbed a fistful of his hair, pushing him as close to her body as possible.

Flashes of light penetrated his vision and he knew that they probably only had a photo or two more before the booth time was done and the pictures dispensed. But with her lips on his and the faint taste and smell of strawberry lingering around them, he could really care less.

Besides, he could always get the next round. She'd get her picture eventually.


	8. Injured

"Now, Ava, could you please - oof!" Her foot slammed into his chest, knocking some of the little oxygen he'd been able to breathe upon returning Aunt May's house. Everything had been tossed topsy-turvy the moment Ava injured herself in their battle against Electro. And it didn't help that she _still_ tried to fight on a fractured ankle. How foolish and reckless his girlfriend could be, "Stop failing around all over the place! I'm_ trying_ to help you."

"We shouldn't be here," Ava hissed, attempting to pull herself off the couch. But her injured ankle prevented her from doing so and she let out a small yelp in frustration, "We should be out there, fighting alongside Peter, Danny, and Luke! That Electro guy's only become stronger since the last time."

"Yeah, well hate to break it to you, kitty cat," Sam said, checking to see if he had enough bandage wrap for the whole of her ankle. Aunt May did appear to be well-stocked, "But you're in no condition to go out there and battle with the big guns. Hell, some common crooks might be too difficult to handle right now. What you need to do is lie down and _relax_. Take a break - the others will handle it, I guarantee it."

Ava snorted, crossing her arms and turning her head towards the TV, "Could we at least watch the news?"

"So you can wallow over the fact that Peter is having all the fun?" Sam countered, easily able to see through her guise, "Not a chance, Tiger. How about we watch a romcom, or play a video game?"

"A video game? Since whenever do I play one of those?" Ava scoffed.

"What? You don't want to play a video game with your _boy_friend?" Sam teased as he finished bandaging her ankle; that should do it for the next couple of hours. Coulson said someone would be down there in the morning to properly check on it, which gave him the opportunity to have a little fun, "I promise I'll make it entertaining."

Her eyes redirected from the TV towards him, a curious glint flickering across. Taking that as a good sign, Sam chuckled and pressed his fingers into her calves, massaging out the knots that had accumulated over the last few days. He could already tell she was suppressing a moan, with the way her head leaned back against the armrest and her eyelids were not quite shut, "How does that feel, Ava?"

"Just don't stop," Ava said, reaching out her hand to entangle her fingers into his thick, black hair, "At least for the next five minutes. Then we can play your stupid video games. Or watch some cheesy romcom."

Sam laughed again, pleased his touch was more than enough to get in his girlfriend's good graces, "Don't lie - you _love_ them."

She only hummed in response, granting Sam this rare victory.

But then again, Sam would suggest he'd already scored the biggest victory of them all. And her skin was beneath his fingers; her hands intertwined with his hair.


	9. Form

He likes the way she moves.

It's not exactly graceful or feminine, the criteria most men look for when they sit around and gawk at every woman passingby. Her legs are too strong and toned for that, her fingers too tense and sharp. She could even be downright clumsy when he thinks about it.

Sometimes, she doesnt know how to carry herself at school, years of discipline and training makining her appear stiff and on edge, face twisted in a perma-scowl throughout most classes. Her walk could be rigid, shoulders bristling from stress. There should have been nothing appealing about it.

Doesn't stop Sam from staring, entranced.

It takes him a while to realize just why he can't stop his eyes from searching her out when he exits a classroom, or why he'll have to shake his gaze off when he feels like it's been hours since he's looked at anything else. It has nothing to do with grace or beauty and everything to do with determination and genuinity. Her walk, her sway, her crossed arms and tired flips of the hair….they are all so raw, laced with a subtle sense of self only she could emit.

Sure, she doesn't have the smooth confidence and sultry strut of Mary Jane, or the cutesy skip and bright charm of Liz Allan. But Ava Ayala is a capable woman filled with a power even Sam has to respect. He might be of space, of cosmic mystery and endless sky…but she is of the tiger, of wild ambition and vicious jungle. Every step she takes exudes pride. Every kick and punch she throws radiates mastery.

And when she is _in_ her element, when the fight is underway and her prowess takes over, that's when Sam can really see it. That is where she feels right, where she feel she belongs. Striking at the enemy with nails like knives, swerving and leaping and running as a predator would stalk its prey. This: jumping off concrete roofs and slashing at criminals, skin hot and head buzzing, is where Ava Ayala feels alive. Where she can truly dazzle brighter than any star he has ever seen.

It is that, while his head is lost in those stars and hers is found in trees, Sam Alexander falls in love with.


End file.
